Hey there! Second chapter up! It would mean the world to me if you reviewed and said what you think :) Thanks guys! Sassi

A few seconds later a man entered the room. He was tall and lanky, wearing dark clothes and holding a Launcher. Newt stood frozen. The man was pointing the weapon at his chest while he craned his head to the side and called behind him.

"Erin! He´s here!" Then he turned to Newt. "Hey Munnie, you are going to make us some nice money," he said with a smirk. Another man poked his head in from the hallway, the same condescending smirk on his face.

"Nice to meet you boy, you are coming with us." And he stepped forward and reached out a hand with a set of cuffs. Finally, Newt broke from the shock. Munnie? Did they just call me a bloody Munnie? Then it hit him. Of course, they had checked in to the airport as a group of Immunes looking for a government transport job. Seemed like these shanks decided to make the best of it for themselves and… what? Sell him to WICKED?

Newt swatted away at the hand with cuffs and stepped back, feeling the rush of anger coursing through him.

"Get your bloody hands off me, shuck-face, or I´ll rip you shucking head off!" he shouted. At the same time, his eyes started to flicker around to find something to defend himself with. He was not going back. Hell no.

"Whoa! Easy there boy!" the first invader exclaimed, clutching the weapon more tightly. But Newt found what he was looking for. There was an empty glass bottle on a table near him, so he went for it. Not caring whether there was a bloody Launcher pointed at him or not, he dove to the side, grabbed the bottle, and before either of the men could react, he swung it toward the one holding the cuffs. The man recovered from his shock and split second before the bottle could hit him in the head, ducked to the side. Newt´s momentum carried the blond to the ground and the next second his previous target was sitting on him, holding him facing the ground, twisting his hands painfully behind his back. A sharp shard of the broken glass dug into Newt´s cheek as he tried to wriggle away.

"Man! What the fuck are you doing?! You would just let this little sucker smash that thing on my head! What do you have that freaking Launcher for?!"

"Erin, I told you it´s not loaded… Besides, it was you who said that the Munnie would shit his pants just seeing it!" the standing man defended himself.

What the hell?! What kind of bloody idiot would go capture a person with an unloaded weapon, relying just on its appearance? Those shanks have to be out of their minds!

"Well, doesn´t look like a freaking Munnie to me, man! I saw his face. Give me the tester."

Newt couldn´t turn his head to see, but he could hear the other man stepping closer and then fitting something cold and metal on his face. Feeling a surge of panic, he tried to squirm away, but his captor held him by the neck and pressed him harder into the floor. Then Newt felt something prick his neck and the thing was removed from his face.

"Munnie my ass! Fuck this, man! What do we do with him now?" demanded the standing man, sounding more than annoyed.

"What do we do? Our civic duty, you moron. Throw him to the other crazies," the other – Erin, was it? - replied.

That unleashed another wave of panic in Newt and he began to struggle anew. No way was he going to the Cranks! But suddenly, all the energy drained from him as he realized it. He was a Crank now. No matter how much he wanted to stay with his friends, to help them, he was ill and he would do more damage than good. Not mentioning, that when he thought of the slow progress of the disease that his friends would have to witness, he regretted once again the jump from a wall back in the Glade hadn´t killed him. What good was him staying here? None. He would leave. It was for the best anyways.

His body went limp and he just said: "I´ll go. Just let me write a message for my friends."

"Not gonna happen, buddy. I won´t have you going nuts on me again. But since we´re nice guys…" The man holding him snapped the cuffs around Newt´s wrists and hauled him up onto his feet. "Hey Ben, grab some paper and a marker, our little Crankie will dictate his love letter to you. I hope you can write," he added in a voice that was half-mocking half-annoyed. The other man grimaced and went to the table, ripping a piece of paper from a notebook lying there. Then he turned to the blond, eyebrows raised.

"Erm…" Newt cleared his throat. Suddenly he felt somewhat embarrassed, like he was about to reveal something very personal. Well, I´m never going to see them again, am I? Then what the hell… „They got inside somehow. They're taking me to live with the other Cranks. It's for the best. Thanks for being my friends. Goodbye."

"Aaw, so sad… Should I add a heart?" the man mocked, but wrote down what Newt had said.

"Just move your ass, idiot," Erin growled and the last thing Newt saw was the piece of paper being thrown onto one of the couches.

Then he was being led away through the hallway, down the ramp of the Berg and out into the dulling light of sunset. There was a beaten and dirty truck standing nearby and another man, so scrawny and short, that the Launcher held in his hands looked bigger than the man himself. This one seemed loaded enough. Newt didn´t look back as he was roughly pushed through the back door of the vehicle into the truck.

Even before his eyes could adjust to the dim light, he could tell he wasn´t alone there.

TBC :)